Fatal Love
by babyvfan
Summary: Murder is a violent, dangerous affair. Why should love be any different? *1940s, crime mafia-au*


**Presenting the 3rd and final (now belated) birthday gift to my fandom bestie Ashley. This is an idea I had for over 2 years when I saw these cool, noir photoshoots of Daniel Radcliffe, Tom Felton, and Blake Lively.**

 **Some of you readers are familiar with Nisa Malfoy, Draco's female counterpart. Somehow the idea of Draco and her together as twins, a 1940s vibe with a mafia theme, a hardworking Detective Potter came together and birthed this story. Hope you like**

* * *

 **Fatal Love**

 _London, 1942_

There were several things Harry wished he had at the moment. Four actually:

1). That he was in his bed, in his comfy pajamas, instead of sitting on his sore ass in the hard wooden chair, dressed in his typical detective uniform of black slacks with suspenders crossed over his long-sleeved white shirt (one of many), his black tie always crooked no matter how many times he tried to flatten it. Almost six years into the job and he still hadn't gotten used to the clothes.

2). Coffee. A large, thick mug of the strongest black coffee the city had to offer.

A stab of regret hit him from remembering fresh brew left untouched in the office, staring mournfully at him as he and Ron raced to get themselves together and high-tail to the courthouse.

3). A cigarette. Funnily enough he had a pack holding two lone ones in his shirt pocket, but he knew he had to save them. The judge apparently was allergic to the smell of smoke and prohibited it in his courtroom.

Plus he had a good feeling that he'd need a cigarette as soon as court was adjourned. He had a throbbing headache to prove it, currently battering against the left side of his temple.

Beside him, his best friend and partner, Ron, slumped in his chair wearing a tight scowl that hinted he could use the second cigarette. In front of them, seated at the prosecutor side were their bosses of their agency, Percival on the far left that looked like he could use a strong drink and Fudge on the right in need of a smoke. Wedged in between them was their best prosecutor, Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, who looked like he could use a smoke, a drink, and a target for shooting practice.

Which lead to the next thing Harry wished he could have right now.

4). For this case to be over and done with already, so he could achieve the previous three wishes.

 _If this case was to ever be over_. Harry rolled his neck to untangle the tension knotting along the nape and glanced over at the door, where the jury had disappeared into after both parties stated their cases.

Five minutes, the leading juror requested. Then requested ten minutes when a decision hasn't been made. Then fifteen minutes, which was rolling into an hour and a half.

Harry was pretty sure it wasn't normal court procedure. Then again, this wasn't a normal court case.

"You'd think they'd pretend to least look spooked," Ron hissed. "Or anxious for God's sake."

The targets to Ron's accusations, along with his glaring eye-daggers, were the two prime suspects sitting at the Defendant table, Draco and Nisa Malfoy. Fraternal twins and heirs to the vast, vast Malfoy fortune, the king and queen to the infamous mafia empire with numerous hazardous crimes under their belt, hidden behind the immense mountains of blood money.

The very definition of lethal and lovely wrapped into one-or two, he should say. It was hard to tell which Malfoy was more beautiful between the two. Both tall and slender, figures shown flawlessly through their form-forming, designer clothes. Skin pale and luminous as marble. Sharp, elegant features that drew in the eye, piercing grey eyes glinting in amusement or violence (depending the recipient of the receiving end to the look). Pale hair so light, it was nearly white with the brother having his slicked in gel, the sister leaving hers long, cascading down past her shoulders.

He suppose their looks and charms was what helped attract potential clients to their business, secure them under their protection for the right price. And secret weapons they worked into their advantage to crush them and opposing "families" under their feet.

Just like it was hard to hard to tell which Malfoy was the most intriguing, it was hard to tell which one was the most infuriating. Both shared that title equally, a fact Harry knew firsthand from the dozens of interrogations he had with them before. At their request, refusing to speak to anyone else no matter what Harry was doing, how far he was away from the station, or even if it was his day off. They either spoke with Potter or they spoke nothing.

Not that Harry would even call it speaking. More so toying, using every weapon they had in their twisted brains, lined in their tongues like bullets to a gun to make him squirm.

Nisa was filing her nails, one leg crossed, looking more like a model in a photo-shoot than a suspect being tried for murder. Her brother was on his third cigarette, ignoring the judge's pointed looks, when he brought out his pack.

"You forget, they lack either emotion." Harry whispered. He was pretty sure the two haven't felt such things since they were born. Ron grunted in agreement. "And this isn't the first time they've been tried for murder."

Ron grunted again.

This was, in fact, the fourth time the Malfoy twins have been brought into court for murder. The previous being the murder of Theo Nott, former ally turned rival who was found by a maid in his bathtub, hands pinned to the sides by daggers, a radio bobbing in the bubbly water. The one before being Greg Goyle, a henchman who served the Malfoy family for ten years found at a crossroad, with the four torn, painfully-drawn out parts that once made up his body pulled in every direction of a compass. The first being their own father, Lucius Malfoy, a great and ruthless head don to the families who was found in the family home with multiple gun-shoot wounds from head to toe.

The newest victim was Pansy Parkinson, Nisa's best friend, Draco's fiancée. Found over a month ago, turning up alongside the river, barbed wire tied around her head like a crown with the sharp edges stabbing into her skin, around her neck, around her arms and legs, with her eyes plucked from their sockets.

Harry still had nightmares looking at those pictures.

Despite the heavy evidence pointing towards the twins including all victims having their mouths sewn up with sliver thread, a Malfoy signature, the clear motive, the three cases got thrown out thanks to hush money and their special charm of slipping through the cracks. Which was why Fudge was on their asses, specifically Harry and Ron's, to make sure every single crack for this case was sealed.

This time they had multiple witnesses claiming to catch Parkinson storming out of the restaurant Draco booked for them, looking like the very definition of fury, leaving a red handprint against the man's cheek as a parting gift. A salesgirl overhearing Parkinson and the sister exchanging heated words, the former commenting that the underground world could use a new donna queen. A tip-line that showed she called the police the night before she was reported missing, saying she had dirt that would make the snakes rot.

As for motive, the possibilities were endless, ranging from Parkinson wanting to head of the families' affair, pushing for a date to the wedding of an engagement that was going on three years too long, even extreme jealous over the twins' close relationship which many including reporters and rivals and even most of Harry's co-workers speculate to be closer than normal sibling love. Much, much closer.

If there was anyone who looked anxious on their part, it would be their lawyer who was shuffling his papers nervously. He went stiff as a board when Nisa, without skipping a beat with her filing, ran the toe of her heel against the back of his leg.

"Think she's sleeping with him?" Harry asked.

The lawyer turned beet red from nose to hairline when Draco leaned in. The more words he whispered, the more red the man's face turned.

"My bets are on the brother," Ron snorted. "Or maybe both. The sister is that twisted, the brother that perverted."

Harry cleared his throat. Ron stared at him blankly until recollection colored his face red.

"Not that you are," he added quickly. "You're different, mate. You like…both?" The last snippet sounded more like a question than statement, the unspoken _right_ heavy in the air.

Harry decided to spare him. "Yes, Ron, both," he said for possibly the thousandth time. "Women _and_ men. Equally."

"All men?" Ron gestured between them.

Dear God, Harry could feel that migraine growing. He was grateful his friends didn't care about his preferences, but it was annoying when that was a common question Ron frequently asked (and feared), despite the number of times Harry answered. "You're not my type."

He stole a glance over at the Malfoys. The team had thrown everything into this case. Every single possible crack they could slip through, Fudge made sure Harry and Ron covered with cement. Every loophole tied, any possible exit door double-locked. All witnesses at the restaurant, the shop, even the strangers that fished Parkinson out attained and protected by the law.

 _If they lose…_

Almost as if they could read his thoughts, the twins pulled away from their activities and looked over at Harry, identical smug smiles spreading across their thin lips that made Harry's skin bristle.

 _I'll be damned if they win_ , Harry scowled.

The jury finally came back into the room, taking their seats, calling the court's attention to the front.

"Has the jury reached a decision?" the judge asked.

"We have, Your Honor," answered a wide-set man.

"How do you find the defendants?"

"We the jury fined the defendants, Draconis Lucius Malfoy and Draconisa Helena Malfoy not guilty."

Several things happened at once. Cameras going off in rapid fire, flashes exploding like barrels in a gun. Fury igniting in the courtroom, screams and protests and tears, Ron's curses being heard over the uproar. Moody shaking so violently, Harry was sure the man was heading straight into cardiac arrest. Draco and Nisa sharing a triumphant smirk in the midst of the mayhem, reaching for each other's hands, fingers entwined.

The second they left the courtroom and were out in the fresh air, Harry helped himself to a cigarette, his headache growing to a raging monster that was bashing his skull to a pulp.

"Unbelievable!" Harry glanced over at Ron who was storming across the paved steps. " _Unbe-fucking-lievable!_ "

"At this point, I'm not even surprised." Harry said. "Money and favors trump over justice any day."

A hand reached over and plucked the cigarette from Harry's lips. He turned around to see Draco sticking it inside his mouth, Nisa following close behind.

"Potter," Draco smirked at him, taking a drag.

"Malfoy," he scowled, then looked over at the sister. "Malfoy."

Nisa cocked her head to the side, wearing a smile so sweet Harry felt cavities drilling into his teeth.

"You still think we did it, didn't you?" Draco asked.

"We _know_ you did it." Ron said before Harry got a word in.

Nisa glanced around. "Dear brother, did you hear something? Something small and irreverent? Looks and smells to be in desperate, desperate need of a long, hot water?"

Ron glowered.

"Why I believe I do, sweet sister," Draco sniffed around the area. "It smells like…a weasel." He took in another drag, smoke escaping from the corner of his mouth. "A weasel who may become roadkill if he keeps on talking."

"Did you just threaten me?!" Fury fired in Ron's voice.

"Oh poor Weasel," Draco shook his head, stealing another drag. "We don't make threats."

"We make promises." Nisa clarified, smile honey-sweet as it was razor-sharp.

Harry gripped onto Ron before he lunged at them, looking ready to throttle them with one hand. "Why don't you two shut it and move along?"

The sweetness in Nisa's smile grew as she stepped forward. "Why do that when we can celebrate our victory?" She ran a sharp, manicured finger against Harry's cheek.

"I already spot a potential participant." Draco said, eyed locked on Harry.

Anger swelled inside him. He grasped onto she-Malfoy's hand, imaging himself crushing it into pieces, and flung it away. "A woman is dead. Your best friend, your fiancée," His eyes cut over to the he-Malfoy. "is dead. So instead of gloating about it like the spoiled brats you are, how about you at least pretend to have a heart and show some respect to the dead?"

Draco frowned in confusion, showcasing that angelic vulnerability that swayed the jury over to their side. "Why not? You were right after all." That infuriatingly smug smirk reappeared once more. "We did kill that dumb bitch."

Harry's jaw dropped.

The smile on Nisa's face matched her brother's smirk in malicious glee. "And had such a wonderful time doing it."

Dropped straight through the ground.

Draco slammed it back up, his touch gliding across Harry's jaw, brushing underneath his chin. "Didn't your Mummy ever teach you you'll catch flies with your mouth opened like that, Potter?"

He could feel something swelling inside him like a bruise, dark and hot.

"Oh silly me," Draco said in mock pout. "She was dead before she could wipe the droll off your chin."

This time Ron had to the one to hold Harry back from doing something stupid, like ripping off Malfoy's head and using it to knock the vicious smile off his sister's face.

"Just get the hell out of here!" Ron growled. "Before you end up at the next corpse."

The she-Malfoy giggled. The he-Malfoy winked at Harry and then they were gone, leaving hand-in-hand.

* * *

Hermione didn't need to ask how the case went. If it the outcome wasn't clear enough given their track record and the way their superiors stormed into the building, the sour look on their faces said enough.

She followed them into their office, rubbing Harry's shoulder before coming over to Ron's side, massaging the tension out of her boyfriend's shoulders. Thankfully she kept her well-meaning, unhelpful comments to herself.

Or so Harry thought until, "And you're sure-"

"Yes, Hermione," Ron cut off, oblivious to the glare she shot behind him for interrupting. "We're sure we had all the bases covered. Doesn't bloody matter since those damn snakes once again got away."

"And there isn't a chance for a retrial?"

Harry shook his head. "It was a double jeopardy bet, where we put all our chips onto the table in a single hit. Once decision was made, no do-overs. No second chances. Game over." Harry leaned into his chair, massaging his temples to tame his monster of a headache. "And as soon as we were out the door, the Malfoys come up to admit we were right. They killed Parkinson. Gloated about it in fact."

Hermione looked so outraged, Harry hoped for the Malfoys' sake they never crossed paths with her. He had a good feeling maybe the case would have gone their way if she had been part of their team. Sadly for them all, Fudge was an old coot that thought men like Kingsley belonged to the back, lower end of the bar and women's jobs were to make coffee and take calls and file papers. Even if she was brilliant like Hermione, or resourceful like Tonks, or loyal like-

"I heard the commotion," Ginny strode into their office, large mugs of coffee in each hand. "And figured you can use some a little pick me up."

Hermione was nearly flattened to the ground by the way Ron nearly jumped for the mug. Snickering at her brother's antics, Ginny wore a bright smile as she dropped the coffee mug in front of Harry, her hand lingering onto the mug as if she was hoping to catch his hand, causing discomfort to curl in his stomach.

"Cream, two sugars," Ginny gave him a bright smile, tucking loose strands of red hair behind her ear. "Know you like black, but figured you could use something sweet."

"Thanks Gin."

Ginny's smile brightened; Harry's discomfort worsened. "So I was wondering… if maybe you'd like to have dinner with me. Tonight? I'll cook."

 _Oh_ …Harry noticed silence from across the other side; his friends perched over Ron's desk, listening in hopes of a good outcome. They made it no secret that they thought he and Ginny would be good together just as much as Ginny made it clear that she'd happily explore that route.

Only thing stopping that exploration was Harry, who wasn't sure about the idea. Ginny was pretty, and she was loads of fun, but-

"And I thought I witnessed a great tragedy when I saw the drab Pansy chose to wear to our holiday gala."

Harry's blood turned to ice at the sound of the voice. No. _No, no, no._ Harry slumped into his chair, feeling his migraine returning, hitting him full force when he saw Nisa Malfoy standing by the doorway, box in hand.

"But that pitiful attempt of flirting takes the cake," Her gray eyes glanced over at Hermione, studying her. "With that bush hair coming in second." Turning back to Harry, she said, "Congratulations, Potter. As it turns out you're not the one incapable of managing a comb."

Stealing a much-needed sip of his coffee, Harry took in a deep breath and put down his mug before a hazardous accident took place. Then counted backwards from five and met her eyes. "Can we help you, Malfoy, or did you decide to save us the trouble check yourself into your cell?"

Nisa shot him a smirk. "Why, you wanna handcuff me?"

Harry bit down hard on his tongue that was rattled with curses so heinous, his friends would turn bright red if they were launched.

"To answer your previous question," she went on. "I came back for the stuff you and your…team," She got out with a sour curl to her lip. "Confiscated during your little investigation. My brother's favorite watch, my new shoes I've barely broken in." She reached into her box and pulled out a pair of shiny black heels. "My precious babies have been so neglected."

She wiped off some bits of dust and laid a kiss on the toe. She showed more emotion reuniting with her shoes than she did when Harry showed her the pictures of her best friend's corpse.

"Where's your lover?" Ron asked, then corrected with a self-pleasing smile. "So sorry, I mean brother?"

"If that's all you got, Weasley, it's no wonder your track record is so low. Seems to me it doesn't take much to be a detective after all. Certainly not brains."

Hermione had to use both hands to shove Ron back down in his chair when he attempted to get up.

Satisfied with that spat, the she-Malfoy looked over at Harry and Ginny, examining their close proximity, eyes narrowing before she exit with a spin of her heel.

* * *

If there was one thing that was forming into a tradition after a case, especially when Malfoys and losing were involved, Fudge could always be counted on to shake the station up with his fury. Out of them all, he took losing the hardest out of them since it was his name on the line, which was immediately smeared by the papers once the ruling was out. And when the name-swearing started, hell rained down on them all.

From Fudge ranting at anything and everything that breathed wrong. Cursing them for their failure and threatening to cut ten percent from their pay. Assigning the team three dozen case files to recopy by the typewriter. Typically ten to thirty pages long, five copies each.

By the time Harry finally escaped from the office and stumbled into his apartment after one in the morning, he was ready to drop onto the living room floor and sleep until next Thursday. But he forced his exhausted, stiffen, aching bones to move his body over to his small kitchen, not even bothering to flick on the light. He grabbed his half-empty bottle of bourdon, a glass he filled with ice, and walked to the living room, plopping down into his favorite chair and taking a swig.

Times like this, Harry wondered why he took his job in the first place. It wasn't like the pay was amazing, only being a few dollars over decent. It was nice seeing his friends everyday but it wasn't like he didn't see them outside of work. Maybe he should thank his great sense in justice that Sirius loved to joke about that led him down this path. His unwavering, often-times-troublesome need to help those in need. To right the wrongs.

Harry snorted, taking another swig.

All the good it's done him. It as hell hadn't stopped the headaches that came with putting together pieces of evidence to build a case. Or the migraine that formed having those cases that took days, weeks, sometimes months putting together to be completely smashed into dust in a matter of minutes.

He took in another swig, but was disappointed-and surprised-to find there was only a drop left. Great. Groaning, he leaned forward in his chair to pour another drink and settled back in.

Cold metal pressed against the back of his head in a hard kiss.

His breath-and fatal sip that nearly had him choking-stilled. Then he forced down his drink and let his breath out. "Malfoy."

"Potter." The he-Malfoy said.

"I can assume your sister will be joining us?"

Light burst into the room by the small lamp he owed. Besides it, making herself comfortable in his couch like she owed the place was the other half to the Malfoy set, one hand twirling with the lamp's chain, one holding a shiny silver gun pointed right at Harry's chest.

"Hello Potter." she purred.

So brother and sister then. Harry decided right then and there that fate didn't like him

"Such a quiet mouse you've become, Potter." Draco noted. "Quite a transformation from the hothead we met earlier."

"The very rude hothead." Nisa added.

Harry's heart was pounding so hard, going so fast it rivaled the speed of a train wheel. He couldn't focus on that though. Or on the gun to his head and the one to his chest. Or how easily they could go off if they felt insulted or sensed the fear he was trying to fold up and tuck away into a corner by focusing only on his breathing and the bricked wall he set his gaze stuck on, counting the cracks.

Draco hummed a tune Harry couldn't name while his gun ran through Harry's dark hair, sliding across the base of his skull, parting through the messy curls down the nape of his neck, even brushing against his cheek. Almost as a lover's caress. "On your knees."

Harry stared ahead.

The gun was back to the base of his skull. "On. Your. Knees."

Harry swallowed and slowly climbed off his seat, kneeling before Nisa, who was now up on her feet and grinning above him, her gun pressed dead-center against his forehead.

"See how easy it is when you listen to Daddy." Draco remarked.

Irritation, mortification, and a third emotion Harry dared not to name blazed inside his body like matches. But he wasn't going to be stupid. He knew countless people found themselves in this position and woken up in the afterlife. That was if the twins were feeling strangely generous and decided to make it a quick death.

 _Focus on breathing_ , he told himself. In and out, in and out.

"I wonder what people would say if they saw the police's finest on his knees before the Don and Donna of great London."

"Doubtlessly ridicule." Nisa commented.

Draco hummed in agreement. "Imaginably shame."

"Possibly even envy."

"Why, sweet sister, I'd be insulted if they didn't." Draco smiled fondly at her.

She giggled in reply without losing her grip on the gun.

 _In and out. In and out._

"Honestly, dear brother, I imagine the reactions would be a mix of all three and more, but I have a better question. What would the public say if they found a bullet," Nisa's gun broke through the barrier of Harry's sealed lips. "Right through his skull."

Harry covered his hands over hers. Eyes locked on hers, feeling her counterpart's glare burning holes into the back of his head, Harry leaned forward the front until the gun was practically swallowed by his mouth, the tip nearly down his throat. All the way forward, then all the way back. Slowly at first, forward and back, forward and back.

The amusement vanished in her widened eyes. Breathing stilled behind him.

Harry continued at his slow pace, until he got his bearings together, until he was sure he had their complete attention. Once gained, he switched to full force, moving back and forth, sucking on the metal like a sucker pop. His speed didn't deter when a pale hand seized his hair; when another hand tugged at his tie.

Harry released the gun that was soaked in spit, drool pooling from his mouth, and captured the gun behind him by mouth, sucking earnestly at it while his hand stroked the other one.

Eyes wild, Draco shoved the gun further down into Harry's mouth. He placed one hand behind Harry's head and shoved him closer. "Look at you," he said, his voice thick with want.

Harry switched from Draco's gun back to Nisa's, sucking eagerly, treating Draco's to harsh stroking, feeling the latter stiffen with each brush his fingers made against the metal. He looked up at the sister, his intense gaze meeting her fierce eyes, watching control and arousal battle inside those dilated pupils. Draco's gun again, then Nisa's, back and forth, sucking and stroking, their heavy breathing and stifled moaning adding more to electric charge pulsing in the air.

Harry's work was getting so much, so deliciously filthy that his shirt, his hands, the guns were drenched in spit.

"Wicked, naughty thing!" Nisa growled, ripping her gun away from his mouth. She grasped his face and crashed their mouths in such a brutal, bruising kiss, Harry's teeth rattled from the impact. He grabbed her by the waist and forced her to her knees, pulling her closer to him.

"Don't be so greedy, sister!" Harry was ripped away from Nisa by a harsh tug of his hair and pulled into Draco's lips. His kisses just as demanding, just as brutal. Just as sweet.

Harry felt himself fading into bliss. It was all too much for him. The force of Draco's kisses, the harsh strokes of his tongue crushing him into dust. Nisa's lips battering his neck with kisses, licks, and bites, making his head swim in ecstasy. The feel of cool air against his bare skin as clothes were ripped away, buttons flying everywhere, zippers breaking apart.

One twin kissed him, the other marked his skin. The latter kissed, the former marked. Each kiss, each love mark, each slash of nails a claim. A brand. _He's ours._

Before long, clothes were gone, lips were swollen from too many kisses, and Nisa was draped across his bed, legs spread, one finger being bitten down, two others opening her folds.

The sight was so beautiful, Harry's mouth watered.

"Isn't she pretty, pet?" Draco whispered into his ear, his chest pressed to Harry's back.

Harry nodded weakly, attempting and failing to suppress his moans as Draco toyed with his sensitive, swollen nipples.

"Come here, baby." Nisa beckoned with one finger, rising from the bed, exposing herself even more. "Come play with Mummy."

"Go on," Draco dropped a kiss onto Harry's flushed cheek. "Remember. Daddy's watching."

Draco sent him off with a hard swat to the ass that had Harry nearly falling forward.

Harry kissed her slowly, sensually as he laid her back down and eased into her, swallowing her moans while trying to suppress his own from being wrapped in her sweet, glorious heat. Then drilled into her, moving so rapid and harshly, just the way she liked, setting off mewls and cries of pleasure that burst from her. He grasped onto her legs and wrapped them around his torso, drilling deeper into her.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she cried. "Ha-harder! Harder! Oh…oh. Yes! _Yes,_ _yes-right there!_ "

"Does it turn you on, pet?" Draco's words were practically a whisper compared to his sister's screaming yet somehow Harry still heard them as clearly as a bell, as if the don was standing right next to him. "Having Mummy on her back, writhing beneath you?"

 _Yes._ The word roared in Harry's head.

"Does it turn you on having Daddy watching, studying your every move as you bring her pleasure?"

 _Yes!_ Harry bit hard his lip to hold in the cry, showing his answer through his frantic thrusting, battering into her in abandoned fervor, raising the volumes of Nisa's cries to deafening heights.

"Does it excite you? Being at our mercy? Being our special little pet? Being our darling baby boy?"

As disturbing as the motive was, as mortifying as it was to hear the words out loud, Harry couldn't fight down the arousal that blazed through his body, burning his skin from the inside out.

" _Answer me!_ " The words lashes to a whip.

"Y..yes." Harry murmured.

"Yes," Harry nearly went through whiplash by the way Draco yanked at his hair, shivering at the sudden chill to his tone. "what?"

"Y-yes," Harry finally sputtered. " _Yes, Daddy_."

Beneath him, Nisa mewled like a cat. Behind him, Draco let out a breath of laughter that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand at straight ends.

"Oh, darling baby boy, if only you can see yourself right now. Looking so wrecked." A swift hand smacked against Harry's left ass-cheek.

He clenched in hard to keep in his cry, struggling to keep up with his pacing.

"Looking so ruined." A harder, swifter hand kissed his right ass-cheek.

He bit so hard on his bottom lip, blood filled his mouth.

"Looking so fucking delicious." The next brutal hit came right to the center of his ass, the pain swelling in his lower back, racing up his spine, bursting from his lips in shrieked, desperate, lustful-filled cry.

Nisa's nails dug deep into his skin as her hands ran down Harry's face, over his collarbone. She leaned in for another filthy kiss, tugging at his bottom lip, causing some of the blood pooling in his mouth to drip onto hers. "Just the way we like you."

With the heel of his foot, Draco pressed Harry further down against Nisa, causing the two to cry out. Harry nearly shuddered from the pleasure, and did so with a wail as Draco slid inside him, causing him to still in his movements, nearly falling over from the intense ecstasy of being filled.

Harry was pulled onto Draco's lap, his cock digging into Harry at a sharp angle that reduced his willpower to the strength of a twig. Nisa followed him, seated across, long legs draped over him, Harry's own cock still inside her.

For a moment, they were frozen, wrapped in each other's warmth, basking in the sweet heat shared between them, the scent of sweat and musk of sex heavy in the air, their heartbeats beating in perfect sync as if they were one main organ.

Nisa leaned forward and kissed him, Harry moved into her, and Draco moved into him. Heated kisses exchanged. Fleeting touches on flushed skin. Pleasure slamming into him from both sides, giving and taking, fusing and merging until-

Nisa came fist with a cry that was swallowed by Harry, who came afterwards, unable to hold back anymore, and Draco whose grip on Harry was tight when he finished it hurt. The three of them dropped onto the bed in heap of boneless limbs, trying to catch their breath.

"Well done, darling baby boy." Nisa's fingers ran through Harry's hair.

Draco's lips ran through his left temple, down to his cheek. "We're so proud."

~...~

Harry woke up late the next morning to the smell of cigarettes that smelt thicker than his usual brand. More expensive. He groaned, squirming in his bed, stretching out his sore limbs before he opened his eyes. To the right, he was nuzzled by Draco's side with the elder helping himself to a cigarette. Nisa was on Harry's chest half-asleep.

"Morning, lover," Draco greeted with a purr. "You miss us?"

Harry rubbed from his eyes, thinking about it for a moment. "Well, it's clearly been quieter."

Draco flicked ashes from his cigarette onto his skin for the comment.

"If I find anything in my hair, you're dead." Nisa warned her brother.

Draco chuckled. "You always say such the sweetest things, Nis."

She glowered in return. Harry wiped them both clean from the ash. She kissed his cheek in thanks and drew a figure eight against his chest. "So," she mused. "Who was the redhead skank getting cozy with you yesterday?"

"A redhead you say?" The question so casual from Draco's mouth, the threat packed heavily behind it. "I didn't hear about that."

Nisa's eyes cut to Harry, razor sharp. "A female version of the weasel."

Draco hummed thoughtfully, taking a slow drag. "Seems our darling baby has been quite busy since we've been away." His fingers raked through Harry's hair, his nails digging into his scalp.

Harry leaned against the headrest. "Jealous?"

Those fingers grasped onto his hair. "Don't be rude."

 _Don't be possessive._ They wanted answers. Well, he wanted some of his own. Freeing himself from Draco's hold, Harry shot back, "Who was the guy you two were playing footsies with at court?"

Nisa dismissed the question with a wave her of her hand. "A bone-headed wanker who got the job done and is now twenty thousand dollars richer."

Harry answered back evenly, "And Ginny is a sweet friend who needed one more eater at her dinner table."

"For the food or her pussy?" Draco asked.

Harry didn't dignify that comment with a response. Nisa looked like she'd happily serve Ginny's severed head as the main course to the dogs.

Draco's hand ran under his chin. "It's fine. As long as the weaselette remains a friend." His hand drifted down to Harry's chest "And only a friend." His sharp nails left faint lines behind as they skated across Harry's skin. "And doesn't get too close." He gripped onto Harry's cock that stirred in his hold. "And keeps her distance." He ran a lazy finger over the tip, triggering a moan Harry barely managed to cage in by his clenched teeth. "Then she'll remain to be in one piece. Otherwise," A dangerous hilt entered his voice. "She may get caught in a rather unfortunate accident. Say…in her office."

"In her car." Nisa mused.

"In the street."

"In her home."

Draco shook his head with a frown, tsking with his tongue. "Stoves and their faulty wiring. One wrong dial and a place grows in flames."

Harry would love to call their bluff but he knew firsthand that the two never made threats they didn't follow through on, whether viciously declared or silently mused. It was why they were the most-feared among the mafia families, among their rivals who entertained the idea of overthrowing them but never went through it. The long, bloody trail of dead bodies served as enough proof to rivals, allies and former friends alike. The jackass who roughened Harry up when he was brought down to the station for petty theft that was found dead the next day with his hands cut off, kneecaps busted in, and mouth sewn shut.

"You are not-I repeat _not_ -going to do anything to Ginny." Harry ordered. "Or any of my friends for that matter."

Nisa's eyebrow raised sharply at the demand. Draco, on the other hand, smiled sweetly at him like an angel. "As long as she keeps her distance, she's safe. We Malfoys are very protective of our investments."

"And more importantly," Nisa kissed him slowly. "Possessive of our valuables."

Harry fought down his arousal stirring in his lower region and eased away from their touches to focus. "Don't think for one second this excuse you two from the stunt you pulled at the courthouse."

Draco focused on the burning tip of his cigarette like it was the most fascinating thing ever. Nisa played with the strands of her chair.

Harry rolled his eyes, exasperated At least they had the decency to look sheepish, he had to give them that. "You know damn well it wasn't easy making sure me and my team had a tight seal on our end and also making sure there was enough cracks for you guys to slip through."

Nisa kissed his shoulder. "And we appreciate the effort, darling." She kissed him again, this time on the neck. "You know we always do."

Draco wrapped an arm around him and pulled Harry over to him. Even though he was still pissed, Harry allowed himself to be propped against him. "Try to understand it from our point of view, baby boy. This grueling trial has been going on for over three months. Goons harassing us daily. Interfering with our business. Interrupting our fun. And worst," Draco kissed his cheek, then his lips. "Cutting into Harry time."

Harry tried to focus on his irritation, but it was so hard to hold onto it as he glanced from one lover over to the other. Faces that were cold and stoic to the public but soft and open behind closed doors with each other and with him.

It was twice as hard remembering why he was mad in the first place when Draco kissed him so deeply, so slowly, letting out all the emotions-the softer ones-no one would believe the Malfoy Don was capable of possessing. Then his mind turned to mush as Nisa finished what her brother started, giving him a kiss that just as sweet. Just as addicting.

"Why did you kill Parkinson?" Harry asked when they pulled apart.

Draco stared back at him evenly. "Do you really want to know?"

Harry snatched his cigarette and helped himself to a drag, mulling over the matter. One of the conditions they set back when they first started their relationship was Harry knew as little as possible about the "problems" they handled. That way Harry could do his job, gathering evidence and probable cause, being able to meet the officials' eyes when he was sworn into the courtroom with a straight face. While at the same time inserting tiny, tiny holes for the twins to make their way through. Yet questions built on his head.

Though her death was brutal, it wasn't like Parkinson was a saint, holding a wrap sheer that took up an entire fling cabinet. But she did grew up with the twins, she was a member of their tight, small circle. He wondered what she did to get on their bad side. Was her lips getting too loose? Her demands too high? Was it an easy decision for them do away with her? Finally, Harry answered with a slight nod.

Nisa sighed, resting her head against Harry's shoulder. "Several reasons. Firstly, the little bitch was getting too cocky for her own good, not to mention sloppy by not making sure all and any loose strings attached to her handled problems were cut. Last shopping trip we had together, she had the balls to say she could make a better Donna than me. Even said how the perfect accessory to her wedding dress would my crown." Sucking her teeth, she stole the cigarette from Harry's hand and breathed in the nicotine deeply. "Please."

Well, that explained the barbed wire punctured into her skull. Harry wondered if that was bestowed to her before or after the eye-plucking.

"A crown that would sooner touch our dog's head than hers." Draco commented, and Nisa hummed in agreement. "And a dress to a wedding that was never going to happen, which brings us to her next offense." Draco's hand glided down Harry's back. "Secondly, Parkinson didn't seem to grasp that our engagement was to serve a strictly professional, completely platonic life-long commitment. One in which the only marriage that would be taking place would be our businesses merging into one. One in which we'd be only be husband and wife by name and nothing else. One set by our father that expired the day he died. Unfortunately for her, Parkinson didn't seem to get the memo. Or rather, I should say, _chose_ not to get it and was getting too greedy."

Harry glanced from one twin to the other. "And the third?"

"Thirdly, she threatened you." Draco answered simply.

Harry's stomach gave a sharp lurch, his heart stopping for a second. Questions rolled through his head: what, when, why, how. That was the most important one: How. There was no way she knew about the three of them. They were always so careful. He was always careful.

"Not entirely sure how," Draco continued. "Seems we have loose lips in the kingdom. Doesn't matter anyway, they were done away as well. Bottom line, once the threat was made, we had to take action."

It took awhile for Harry to find his voice. "It's-it's not the first time I've been threatened." He tried to smoothen the sudden tension with a laugh. "Kinda comes with the job."

"Maybe," Draco began.

"But not anymore." Nisa finished.

"As my sweet sister said, Potter, we Malfoys are very possessive of what's ours." Draco bit down on his shoulder. Harry bit down on his bottom lip to hold in his moan, which slipped through the cracks by the slow drag of Nisa's nails against his chest, over his nipples that were still tender.

If people were to see London's finest with two of the most dangerous people of the mafia world in a polyamorous relationship, Harry was sure heads would roll, staring with his, possibly cut down by Ron or Fudge. Maybe both.

It was a dangerous, fine line they were crossing. After all there were hundreds of enemies and "friends" Draco and Nisa had that would happily see the relationship as a crack to the Malfoys' impenetrable armor and exploit if they caught whiff of it. Harry's reputation he spent years building could be shot to hell if his colleagues found out, his credibility torn to shreds by the reporters, especially Skeeter's who's been after his ass since day one. He could be tried and found guilty as an accomplish to their crimes. Hell, it could even call for a reexamination to every case he played a part in, which could lead to dangerous people being let out.

The risks were too many, too high, and too great. Sometimes Harry was sure it would one day cost the twins everything or Harry his head. Sometimes the thought of leaving, of ending this pricked the back of his head. When he saw the latest problem handled by the two, chewed and spat out for the cops to find that threatened to send every meal he's ever eaten upstream. When he caught a glimpse of them in the paper, Nisa smiling at a handsome stranger, Draco with his arm around a beautiful woman, rumors flying about the latest toy caught in their claws that made jealously rear its' ugliness in Harry's head. When he was reminded exactly who they were, the people he invited into his bed, into his heart, knowing that same hands that brought him great pleasure also brought poor souls great pain.

Yet each time the thought crept it, it was easily blown away. Yes, the relationship was insane. It was crazy. It was dangerous. It may one day end with him dead.

But he remembered how Draco would sometimes wiggle himself into Harry's hold without a word and cling onto him when he needed a break, a reminder that someone cared for him. Actually, genuinely cared. How Nisa would pout like a child when she wouldn't get her way and unleash a storm of complaints and kisses until she did. When Draco's nose scrunched up in distaste at the multiple Weasley sweaters in his closet, and later on would be found wearing one to bed.

He loved them. It was as simple as that. Spoiled and twisted as they were, shockingly sweet and considerate when they chose to be, he loved them. And by some odd twist of fate, they loved him back.

"Usually my dear brother and I are quite greedy when it comes to the things we have want," Nisa said the night all of this began, sliding up to Harry, leaving no space between them. "We don't share, even with each other."

"But in the case of you, Detective Potter," Draco drawled, creeping up behind him, trapping him in a Malfoy sandwich. "We'll happily make an expectation."

And here they were almost two years later.

Harry kissed the corner of Draco's mouth before resting his head on his shoulder. He brought Nisa to his chest, playing with the smooth blonde locks. "I love you."

Both stilled beside him like statues, before a tender kiss was pressed against the crown of his head, another against his chest over his heart. Quiet but firm declarations. _We love you too._


End file.
